Human
by Hermies818
Summary: You can only fight you're feelings for someone for so long, and when that time runs out, will the hurt be worth it for a chance to heal? One shot sequel to Wedding Dress.


**Here it is folks, the long awaited and much asked for sequel to Wedding Dress. Everyone go blowup the PM inbox of _blue__ dogs rock _with words of thanks for proofreading this. For personal reasons (it's the companion to my first NCIS LA fanfic) this piece means a lot to me and so I hope it meets your expectations.**

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What does it mean to be human? In purely scientific terms being human is classified as different traits that make up our species, such as walking upright, the abilities to hunt and use simple tools, and the wiring of our brains. A dictionary might define "human" as 'of, relating to, or characteristic of people or human beings'. But it's so much more than that. It is human to do something wrong, or in haste, and it is human to run towards pain because it tells you that you're here, you're alive, you can feel and be felt. There is only one force in the world that can make someone forget what it feels like to be human, and that's loss. The strength of loss is frequently and easily underrated until you're right in the thick of it. It can shatter a perfectly healthy heart and can reduce a grown man to little more than a walking zombie, a stranger in the land of the living.

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The first coherent thought that Kensi could put together after giving birth was that she would never again complain about getting shot because it was nothing next to giving birth. The labour alone had hurt like a bitch and she'd been under medication.

Her second thought was formed as the little bundle swaddled in blue was placed in her arms. This time she thought about the amazement and love filling her heart as she looked at her son.

Right on the heels of her second thought was about how much like his daddy he looked. Right down to the pair of sky blue eyes that always looked as if they were laughing at some private joke.

Deeks. She allowed thoughts of him to slip into her head, something she'd allowed very rarely these past few months. Where was he now? Was he alright? Was he happy? Had he moved on? Did she want him to move on? Please let him have been able to move on.

She let her thoughts about the shaggy haired detective swirl around her head, remembering every little detail she could as she put on a smile for the baby. He didn't need to know that her heart was breaking.

Engrossing herself in the tiny human in her arms, she missed the man in the doorway. She missed how he watched the two of them as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She missed as a very large African American male with a shaved head and another man with an air of mystery about him in the hallway walked towards the room only to immediately clear out when they saw him standing there. This was his moment, not theirs.

And through it all, Kensi seemed completely oblivious. Oblivious, that is, until he cleared his throat.

She lifted her head to find him standing there, his shirt rumpled, his hair messy.

"Hey Max." She murmured.

"Hey Fern." Deeks smiled softly, almost as if he was giving her permission to do the same.

For the past few months he'd been like a recovering addict, only instead of something easier like drugs or alcohol, he was trying to recover from her. He'd changed his route so he didn't stop at any of their old haunts, he hardly ever watched TV anymore, he'd done everything he could to get her out of his life. Which is why every single sense in his body was screaming at him to leave before he got hurt again. But maybe, just maybe, he liked the hurt of seeing her and their son.

Neither of them spoke, creating an awkward tension that filled every corner of the room.

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked. There was no accusation in her voice, no wonder, simply a question spoken because doing so would mean he'd respond.

"That's a damn good question." He chuckled quietly. "Where's Jack?"

Now that she thought about it, she realized she didn't have an answer. Jack hadn't been there in the holding room or in the delivery room. She hadn't seen him come in to see the baby or even standing in the hallway looking in through the window.

"That's a damn good question." She told him. Deeks nodded, as if he understood everything she hadn't said, and to be honest, he probably did.

"I see the welcome wagon has already been through here." Deeks said as he took in the copious amounts of bouquets and balloons and stuffed teddy bears that had been crammed into the room. All the things that were so not Kensi and yet so very her all at the same time.

"Yeah." She chuckled. "I uh, I think Nell managed to sneak them in here when I was napping because they just kinda showed up."

The silence returned. What were you supposed to say at a time like this?

"How're things back at NCIS?" He asked after a while.

"It's ok." She lied. In truth it had been hell without him there. She missed him so much and it killed her to know that he had left because of her. "Hetty benched me right around month 5."

He smirked, holy crap she'd almost forgotten how much she loved it when he did that.

"You must have loved that."

"I'd rather scratch out my eyes with a rusty spoon." She deadpanned. For a second they smiled at the familiar banter, it was the same smile one might use when remembering something that had been lost long ago.

"How's the LAPD?" She asked.

"It's good, kinda quite for the moment." He nodded.

"That's good." She nodded back, lamely. "You have a new partner?"

He scratched his head. "Yeah, she's a recent transfer from IA."

"Oh." Kensi said, her stomach tightening. She. "Is she any good?"

"No, yeah she's great." Deeks diverted his eyes from her and walked around the room. "She's tough, smart, lethal with a weapon. Basically she's the ideal partner. There's just one problem."

"What's that?" She shifted uncomfortably, not really sure she wanted to hear the answer. He looked at her.

"She's not you."

Kensi blinked hard at that. Every day since he'd left she'd done her best to do like he'd asked her to do and forget about him. She hadn't really, how could she? But after a while, she'd managed to put up a wall of sorts, more out of necessity. She took a shaking breath and looked down at that baby, it was easy to smile when looking at a new-born.

"You know, for the first few months I tried to imagine that the figure pressed against me in bed wasn't there or it was someone else. But for the longest time I didn't let myself imagine it was you because if I did that I'd start crying and I wouldn't be able to stop. But then after I first felt him kick, I let myself imagine little bits of you. Those were your hands on my belly, it was your lips on my cheek or your smile on his face. Silly isn't it?" She asked quietly, breaking his heart.

"No." He looked at her. "It's not silly, what I did was silly."

She looked up at him with confusion.

"I tried to forget you, my god Kensi I really tried. I forced myself away from all the places we used to go to, I deleted every photo on my phone, I even tried to go out on a date." He shook his head, jamming his hands down further into his pockets. "But the entire time I was out with her I felt disgusted and ashamed, at myself, at her, at myself for being disgusted with her. I felt like I was cheating on you. I felt like I was cheating on you when you weren't even mine."

"I'm always going to be yours Deeks, no matter what." She told him, trying to put the conviction behind the words she wanted to feel but didn't.

He smiled sadly, even with the time apart she still wasn't fooling him. "I know Fern." He whispered. "But what was silly was how I ever thought I could forget you."

He wanted to go up to her and hold her face, to kiss her wet cheeks, to hold the son they shared, or just to tell her how much he loved her.

But he couldn't do that.

She was married, she was with Jack, he'd lost her and he couldn't get her back.

He tore his eyes away from the pair in the bed, knowing that if he didn't he wouldn't be able to control himself. He looked for something else, anything else, to focus on. He desperately didn't want to have leave. Finally his eyes settled on the large number of flowers that had been delivered. As he looked over the bouquets, balloons, and stuffed bears, he noticed something odd about a card that was stuck to one of the larger and more colorful arrangements.

He plucked it off and looked at it, puzzled. He was puzzled because the card was addressed to him. Opening it, he grinned in spite of himself as he recognized the handwriting, he should have known.

**These flowers were delivered to Ms Blye's desk this morning with instructions take them to her in the hospital. However, there was a Manila folder accompanying them which was addressed to you, which I have placed in this arrangement. I hope this finds you well and that you know that you can always come home.**

**Sincerely,**  
**Henrietta Lange**

He sighed, home. NCIS. Hetty was right, it was his home and he missed it. But going home would mean that he couldn't move on. If he went back then there was no way in hell he would be able to work with the team and even if he was working with them, he was damn sure he would be no good with another partner. Besides, everyone knew you couldn't go home again.

"Rubbish." He smiled as he imagined he could hear the little woman's voice.

His curiosity piqued, he pulled the Manila folder from its resting place within the flowers and opened it. It was full of official looking papers and one sheet of yellow notebook paper, folded in half. Ignoring the others for a moment, having an assumption of what they already were, he went straight for the notebook page.

**Detective,**

**Be good to her.**

**Jack**

He read the note once, then read it again. He looked at the four words long and hard. "Be good to her." He felt like crying or screaming or laughing. Was this real? Could this actually be happening?

He didn't remember reaching back into the folder but he must have because the next thing he saw was a set of annulment papers in his hands, with Jack's name printed neatly at the bottom. Jack was letting her go. He was letting her go so she could come back to him.

"Deeks? What is it?" Kensi spoke up from the bed. He just kept staring at the papers and then turned his attention to the bouquet.

The guy knew his flowers, either that or he had a freaking amazing florist. Daffodils, cyclamens, azaleas, and pink and striped carnations, I love you but you no longer love me so I'm letting you go. Take care of yourself, I won't forget about you. I wish it could have been different.

"Deeks?" Kensi's voice broke through his concentration. Slightly dazed, he turned to look at her.

"It's from Jack." He said numbly and held up the papers. Wordlessly he handed them to Kensi, taking care not to wake the now sleeping infant in her arms.

This time the silence was thick enough so that you could almost see it. Even the noises in the hall seemed to have disappeared as Kensi read and reread the papers in front of her.

On the grounds of mental illness on Jacks part and forced consent on her part, Jack had moved to get their marriage annulled. All that was needed was her signature.

"Fern?" Deeks almost squeaked.

"I need a pen." Kensi stated mater-of-factly. She started looking around for one, trying to do so without waking the baby. Finally her eyes found one on one of the bedside tables and she reached out for it.

"No!" Deeks suddenly cried, louder than he meant to, and lunged for her hand, grabbing it as she picked up the pen.

For a second they both forgot to breath. His hand clutching her wrist, their first physical contact in almost 9 months. He'd forgotten how soft her skin was, she'd forgotten how strong his hands were. Just like an alcoholic falling off the wagon, Deeks felt himself needing more, much, much more. He wanted to be able to feel all of her, his body and her body pressed against one another, his fingers gently caressing the contours of her shape, his lips softly kissing their way up her long, graceful neck. Even with just that little bit of contact, both of them felt like they had been lit on fire.

"Deeks." Now it was Kensi's turn to squeak his name.

"This is a major thing Kensi and I want you to be absolutely sure of what you're doing." He instructed her after he found his voice.

"I'm sure, I never should have done this." She assured him.

"You did what was right." He told her but she shook her head.

"For someone else. All my life I've been doing what's right for someone else, never for me. Well now this is for me, I'm going to do what's right for me." She told him in a tone that left no room for argument.

He let go of her hand and sat on the edge of the bed as he watched her hesitate for only a brief moment before signing her name to the paper.

They both stared at the documents before Kensi wordlessly handed them back to Deeks who opened the drawer in the bedside table and slipped them inside. They were for later, tomorrow maybe.

He sat back down on the bed and let his had slide onto of hers, once again feeling that feeling of electricity that he felt whenever they touched. Gradually, wordlessly, his fingers started to entwine with hers until it looked like they could never be separated. That simple gesture, much like the rest of their relationship, said absolutely everything necessary.

"Would you like to hold him?" Kensi asked quietly, referring to their son.

A look of absolute terror flashed across Deek's face as she leaned forward and deposited the as of yet unnamed baby into his arms. She bit back a laugh as he tried to figure out how to properly position the child.

Deeks looked down as his son emitted a little yawn and opened his eyes, looking straight at him. Almost immediately Kensi watched as his demeanor changed and his body seemed to shift instinctively to better cradle the baby.

"Hey little guy, its ok. Everything is gonna be ok now, Simon." He looked at Kensi for conformation. She nodded slightly. It was a good name, strong, slightly different, and it gave just enough tribute to the man who stepped aside.

"It's ok Simon, daddy's here." Deeks's eyes filled with tears and this time he wasn't afraid to let them spill over because he knew that everything was going to be ok again. Maybe it would take some time, maybe it would be painful, but he could take it. He finally felt himself become human again.

"Daddy's coming home."

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When someone is stripped of what it feels like to feel human, it's hard to bring them back. But it can be done, and that's why love exists. Love exists to remind us of how wonderfully painful being human can be. It reminds us that to feel human is to feel flawed and scared and proud and joyful. Most importantly, however, love reminds us that being human means that everyone, at least once in their life, does the one thing that every single fibber of their being is telling them not to do, and they will come out better for it.

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**Please review with your feedback, I love getting the notifications in my inbox. (Ok, I admit it, I'm vain, but aren't all writers?)**


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